Unlike the many industries that burp and seize up in anticipation of Christmas – and ultimately stop dead in its tracks – Rock ‘n Roll never takes a break. It doesn’t go on holiday. It lives on an endless perpetual calendar of sex, stimulants and adrenalin. It bounds and plods and steamrolls and even hemorrhages creativity despite the sleepy respite that is observed by the denizens of the normal world.

On November 10, 2014 Pink Floyd released its latest , and presumed last, studio album ‘The Endless River‘. It broke existing records on iTunes for pre-sales [a redundant idea if you consider that they can generate an infinite number of MP3s at will]. It also turns out that it’s not a bad album.

So what if you’ve got street cred? In the end it won’t buy you a sandwich or get you on the bus when you’re destitute from starving for your art. Ah, yes…the old sawhorse debate about commerce versus art. We artistic types spend a disproportionate amount of time protecting our creations. They’re our babies and can’t be nursed by anyone but us. In music, that means slaving over the writing and producing process until every last drop of ‘inspiration’ can be sweat out of the muse.